


I don't take revenge

by TammyDrinksVodka



Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: AU, Angst, Everyone lives / Nobody dies, Gen, Good Guy Bendy (Bendy and the Ink Machine), Happy Ending, Help me please I need in beta but I don't know how find them on this site, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:00:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27298270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TammyDrinksVodka/pseuds/TammyDrinksVodka
Summary: One careless movement, one, you might say, stupid injury suddenly unmask the situation and shows Henry that in their relationship with Bendy, as with relationship of the creator and the creation are not all smooth. Henry doesn't realize it right away, and Bendy, as always, is on his own mind.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	I don't take revenge

**Author's Note:**

> Please, heroes, listen to my tale...  
> Yeah, it is absolutely illiterate fanfic, may be, it will impossible to read it, and may be, you couldn't realise even the summary. It is because I not English speaker.  
> I know it is not much of an excuse, and I will glad if somebody will point out me on a mistakes, wrong selected words and constructions! More than that I'll will glad if someone will agree to betting my fanfic, if it's customary here. But if you can to write on a comment anything about the plot and characters, please, do it. It is very important for me, cause I'm going to public it on Russian-speaking site after.  
> Okay? <:|

"Bendy, climb down from there, keenly!"

Henry understood that the height which Bendy was sitting on wasn't so dangerous, but all screamed inside him. He had the no much hard nervous system because of age, and all that he overcame in studio finally shattered it. A fragile calmness settled there only two weeks ago, if not less ( in this place is easy to lose track a time), and he didn't want to lost someone after so short time. Expecially someone from toons whose he very valued after years. And especially Bendy whose has not to used to him in time, poor creature.

And he are standing on the top of the broken carousel, he are laughing, he are twirling and even arent trying to hold on something. And it all is on so height, as if nothing can happen!

However, Bendy, hear the creator's voice, instantly subsided: the smile disappeared from his face, changing on expression alarming tension. The imp clung fingers in a rusted piece of armature and timidly shouted:

"Well, well, don't be angry, I climbing down!"

Bendy had learned to submission for thirty years, Henry noticed it long ago. And he with Joey tried to work out in him at least some likeness of obedience long... What is so strongly influenced on him?

"Okay, why didn't you just do that, " Henry shaked head, "look under the foots, Bendy, if you will crash down, I will not cure you, you'll see! Put the legs below, and hold on tightly..."

Sometimes Henry seemed that Bendy just hadn't survival instinct. He wasn't afraid things which children of his psychical age are afraid so often. Darkness? He was the creature of darkness and was running on dark corridors without fright: he used to this for time to living there. Depth? He easy was diving in most deep ink pools and sometimes swum through the river below studio despite that current of this river could carried away forever. Height? He without ceremony was climbing on a handmade pyramids from the boxes, on fragile construction from the board or the tops of unfinished attractions, how now. Alice for this called him "restless hellspawn", Henry — "little fearless devil". Henry in general referred with him softer, trying to achieve the trust from the toon, but the toon whatever shunned him...

"Come on! Stand the foot below, there the iron rod protrudes...Not this foot, where you are... God damn!"

Because Henry had a reason to afraid.

Bendy forgot himself, accidentally removed his leg from a reliable support and would flown down if he didn't clung his fingers in a crossbar. Henry in the same second extended arms to catch Bendy if he won't held — and Henry wasn't sure that he can do it...

"So! Don't panic, don't panic!" he shouted up, however, words "Don't panic" were converted to himself. "Foot on the rod, are you remember? Try!"

"I can't reach to!" Bendy screamed, jerking his legs in air and trying to hook at least from something.

"You will reach to, don't be scary" Henry attempted to convince the imp. Anyway, he can reach to in theory... "I catch you just in case, come on!"

Bendy managed to reach a cherished support and now stretched out in extremely stupid position, relying on the edge of the iron rail first foot and trying to grope another stable point second foot. Should to say Henry's heart beaten in his throat, and only God known what felt Bendy, if God care about some little devils.

"And now you must seize something just below than this crossbar one hand!" the man shouted. "Are you see something?"

"No!"

"Oh hell," Henry muttered, looking at the building and searching something enough solid. "Okay, I'm see. Near this title a board fall off with one side... It will match if it didn't rotten!"

Bendy said something which Henry couldn't hear because of height... A crack! A yell!

The dark spot flown down, turning in the air. Henry hurried forward to catching...

It darkened in his eyes and all that he felt is the toon body, crashed on his hands. Also he thought how heavy Bendy became (or how weak Henry became)...

"What," he screamed. "Is your tomfoolery played the dirty trick with you, isn't?"

Bendy raised the head and looked in Henry's face crazed stare. It was unclear what scared him, the rapid falling or the creator's shouting.

"Are you frightened? But I'm not frightened, you think? I swear, if I whenever will see you on this cursed carousel, you stay without sweets for a week, I'll wean you from..."

"I ac... accidentally, Henry!" Bendy forced.

"You has climbed up accidentally? I'll wean you from it too!"

Bendy attempted to answer, but whether rattle or sob came out from his throat. Henry mused: may be he too hard with the toon whose was scared without him.

"Oh-ho, why you so nervous? You fell down now — okay, but are understood you shouldn't misbehave so from no on?"

Bendy twitched in his arms, seeking to let out. Henry hold him harder and felt something warm and sticky on his palms. He, wared, tried to place Bendy on the floor — and Bendy fell, not staying on the legs.

"Come on!" Henry couldn't to hold on. "Why you are falling? Rise up!"

Bendy raised up, relying on the floor and snatching on the belly. Henry saw a blood. The hideous wound on the side and the ink, flowing from slowly and straight. The experienced eye of the former war medic immediately distinguished a affected vein, and the eyes of the creator and father make out that the feeling of pain of Bendy are blunted, if he don't cries or screams...

"What with you?" he blurted. "On what you hurt yourself?"

"I accidentally!"

"I don't needed in apologies, just say!"

"I f... I fell and snag..." Bendy's voice suddenly became a rale, "from a stick, and it..."

He stopped and sobbed, clutching the wound palms. Henry held on the head, trying to arrange the thoughts: how to bandage it, what the stick, oh, this is awful, they need a peroxide, many peroxide, and the doctor!

But in all studio was only one person who understand the doctor's deal, and it was the Henry himself.

"Quietly, hush, hush, don't be afraid, all's alright" he whispered, pick up him on the arms and repeating like a pray: the back is straight, the knees are bend, the head is raised to he can breath! "Don't touch the wound! Okay, good... Lay and breathe calmly."

Bendy groaned something inaudible, and his mouth crooked because of the pain. Henry hurried to the exit — on a corridors, to stairs, faster, and he can find both the peroxide, and the bandage and people whose, may be, can't help nothing but whose he so needed now!

Seemed, the fate was kind to him, cause he met Alice on the steps: as it turned out, she decided to call "indecently wandering" Bendy to the table (toons used to lunch together). However, she forgot about the lunch when she saw the Bendy's condition.

"Oh God what..."

"He was climbed and fell" Henry answered, "but it isn't main! We need a peroxide, a clean rags, needle and the threads, may be, knife and scissors, all that you'll find, alright?"  
"Don't need," Bendy moaned hardly audibly, "don't need the peroxide, and knife too..."

Henry hissed on him angrily, and Alice held on the forehead.

"Stay, stop, I understand nothing, why this all?"

"Why this, why this, I will sew the wound, you won't say that it heal up itself. I'll explain later."

"I'll recover, I'll heal, I will be alright... Just don't the knife!"

"And you too," Henry noticed pointedly. "Alice, call everyone what you'll meet, say them to collect this all somehow, and quickly, Bendy can pass out. I'll overtake you!"

Alice nodded and ran up on the stairs. Henry, exhaling, went after her, cause the toon body on his arms didn't let him to run, also his age shown itself. Only on the steps he realized clearly that very soon he must sew up someone's wound, but he didn't it many years, and... if he'll fail? If his hands will waver in some moment, or if he'll gotten a mistake, if he won't in time or... What will after?

Bendy whimpered, thinking, probably, about the same, and Henry recovered. He mustn't imagine this. He should to calm down his amiss breakdown nerves and tune on serious, responsible deal and on the success in the end. Because he had all to achieve this. Knowledge, experience and (the most important) purpose.

"Calmly, don't cry," he said tenderly. " We'll stand you on the legs, and you'll as good as new, you will run and jump enough..."

***

Not once and not twice Henry angrily scolded toons for their rare for the living creature irresponsibility and Lost Ones for their bordering with the lack of will fragility. Although, may be, he shouldn't to blame the Lost Ones: they were a miserable and maimed creatures, whose the studio forced to afraid, to hide in the corners and to wait a miracle, promised by little more initiative Sammy (and what the fortitude won't weak for years such life?). May be, it was foolish to condemn toons, too: some unseriousness and distraction are necessary trait of a any cartoon character that years... But they should understand what are appropriately in the black and white comedy and what in the real world which is unfriendly to them!

However, now Henry has paid tribute them all, because the inky people forgot about their weakness, and the toons taken this with surprisingly seriousness.

He met the crowd when he was running through Alice's floor. Alice herself was running forward than all with some kind of bag dirty-white color which Henry saw first time. Boris hurried after her, because of excitement switching to the four-paws running, and carried a heap of a rags: Henry made out colorful sheet, pair of a ripped shirts and a whole lot of the gauze. Sammy tried to make his way forward and don't drop a flasks of the peroxide at the same time. Behind gaggle of the Lost Ones raced: someone was carried a big piece of a cloth, someone carried a can of the peroxide which Lawrence hasn't noticed, someone absolutely out of place catched a thermometer — in general, it was easy to see that they all hustled to assist...

"We have found all," Alice reported back with some pride: she commanded and directed the crowd, confused at first.

"Perfectly," Henry said, "you have found needle and threads too, aren't?"

"I'm repeating: we have found all," the Angel gave him the white bag. "There is a needle, a threads, a scalpel, a scissors, and all what you may need."

Henry, one hand holding Bendy who started to struggle and twitch, open it. And he doubt his eyes because inside was real martial surgical kit.

"Oh God, I don't know where from in this place so many devilry which don't relates with animation... Well, Bendy, don't cry, we'll cure you, we'll cure you... But I'm ready to kiss who brought this thing in studio."

"I'd not rush to judgment," Sammy noticed with coldness used for him. "It was Joey. It say you enough, isn't?"

"Even if it was Joey!" Henry straighten up. "Now his stupidity is saving our position. Where I can put the unfortunate toon? It is wrong to sew his wound on the floor. If we had a real bed or..."

"We have boards!" a idea flashed Lost One with a thermometer. "This boards which are table... Are you understand?"

Someone would can laugh on the stammering of the Lost One with a thermometer, but Henry, like all, realised that nobody wants to speak aloud for what are destined "this boards which are table".

"You are good fellows," Henry summed up. "Now you will waiting there while I will sew, right?"

"The help?" Alice alarmed. "You aren't need with somebody from us?"

Henry looked the crowd cursory glance. Boris have a weak nerves, and he'll give up quickly. The Lost One with a thermometer was out immediately. Alice, the girl, could still be relied upon, but would she stand up to it? Women, women... May be, Sammy? Not that their relationship was difficult, but it is likely that the self-proclaimed prophet will only interfere to Henry with his fanaticism and excessive anxiety for his Lord (there was no doubt, he will be nervous for ten person).

"No," he got up, trying to grab both Bendy and the tools with one hand. "Sorry, no. Just show me where you have... The table. And help to bring it all, I have only two hands."

***

"So, calm down," Henry started with this phrase, because calm wouldn't hurt both now. Henry's thoughts were confused, and Bendy was crying and trembling in his hands, almost in a fever (Probably it is bad. Probably he has to hurry, because... No, calm down! Calm down! Plenty more time!).

Oh, shit. The operating table was set at an angle of almost ninety degrees, it was absolutely impossible to work on this. It seems as if everything was trying to get in his way. Henry put Bendy's trembling body on the floor, tried to tilt the board with his hands — it didn't work, and there was no time to deal with the mechanism! He kicked it with anger, and the table succumbed. In a hurry, he threw a couple of rags and a sheet on the board — then should wash it... my God, what is he thinking about? — In a hurry, he picked up Bendy from the floor, carefully put it down on the table, trying to do it in such a way that then the straps would not interfere with the work — to tear away from the table all this horror, as if it were a tool of torture, not a decent operating table... Also later.

"H-Henry!" Bendy whimpered pitifully. It hurts, he thought with sympathy, of course, in this situation it is not shameful to cry even for a boy.

"I will sew up it quickly," Henry promised, — it will hurt a little bit, but you won't shout, okay? You are an adult."

Although Henry understood that he had lied brazenly. How not to lie in this context.

With excitement, he poured on a bandage almost a one third of the can and immediately sharply scolded himself out for it — what will later if he has started to make a mistake in such simple things? Breathe in! Breathe out! He can be nervous later, and now he need to be as cold, calm as possible!

"Let's see," he appealed to himself, wrapping an alcohol-soaked rag around his fingers, "what to do here..."

However, his main mistake was already revealed here: he clearly overestimated Bendy's endurance. The devil wailed not with his own voice, as soon as Henry tried to touch the edge of the wound, and waved his hands, trying to push the creator away.

"Take your hands off," Henry ordered in as even voice as possible: in no case he should show weakness. "You are in the way."

"It's stinging!"

"If it stinging," Henry explained, don't stopping to treat the wound, "it means that you have a disease, but without alcohol it will stay there, in your wound — put your hands away, not clear? — and it will progress! You like to climb on merry-go-rounds, and you have to like to tolerate alcohol..."

But Bendy, of course, did not remove his hands, but defended with the rage of the beast: it seemed a little more, and he will start scratching and biting.

"Alcohol can not be on the ink-o-o-oh it is painfully!" he groaned, squirming from every Henry's move, "Joey said! I can melt!"

"If I poured pure alcohol on you — you'd melt," mumbled Henry, losing patience, "and this is only a three-percent solution, so stop twitching already!"

Bendy, who until then seemed to be just a standard of enduring, now cried out loud, breaking out with such despair, as if he had solvent injected in his veins. Sometimes Henry hitted a rag on his wound, because Bendy always got out of his hands, and then Henry swearing, and Bendy would start to cry louder. Still, not taking with himself Alice was the right decision. No woman could stand so many cries and yells, not even Alice and even from Bendy. Henry knew this for sure, because his own nerves were starting to give up.

Maybe Sammy's help wouldn't have been superfluous now. Although Sammy would have rather not even let something be done, he would say "do not touch my Lord", and it is wouldn't care him that Henry is trying to help. And how will he sew? At this rate, with the first prick toon's stomach will be sewn through. Hell, and he won't need a prick, it's enough that the wound still needs to be excise.

He looked at the Bendy, shaking on table, at his own sweaty palms, at the straps on the sides of the table... What he did next was probably a little selfish. Because, despite the sincerely good intentions, despite the fear for someone else's life, he was still thinking about how comfortable it would be for him. In the heart, he felt that what he had done was not quite right, that it would be better to call for help, to ask someone to hold a twitching toon, but panic just did not let him properly think over his decision.

"I have to," he said, as if making an excuse, "I have to do it, because I can't work if you will breaking out."

He grabbed Bendy's hand and started strapping him to the table.

***

Bendy stopped to cry because felt that Henry don't pour peroxide on his wound and held him on palm. He open eyes and with surprise looked on creator.

"I have to," Henry said sternly, "I have to do it, because I can't work if you will breaking out."

And after strap sharply tightened his arm on wrist, so strength that Bendy couldn't move it. And too late he realised that Henry is fastening other arm too... And then it all: both peroxide and this same board and phrase about knife or scissors formed in one spooky and sinister word: pitfall!

He twitched still free hand, trying don't let immobilize himself completely, but what is fluttering of toon against force of adult! Second arm was strapped so easy like first. Bendy drummed legs on the board with yelling of despair (may be someone will come on screams and sounds of fighting?). But Henry seized his ankle with same rude power, dragged it at the board and become throw the belt on Bendy's legs. Bendy attempted to hit him shoe, dont allow to secure the belt buckle, however insufferable pain impaled fresh wound from this movement. And Henry already started to strap both his legs...

That's why need a knife! That's why Henry not let in nobody here! Tears appeared on the eyes from fright and realising own weakness. Henry going to kill him, kill, like Boris was killed once, and so same pull guts, and Bendy will quiet torment, still a little alive. And he will cant do anything, even close himself from knife...

Although he knew, he knew that on a surgical table dont treat! But now this soaked in ink rags are nis deathbed, and more ink will stream out of him...

Now Henry, probably, will draw line chalk on Bendy's chest or belly, will mark where will pass knife to all will be smoother and more beautiful (but what beautiful in dead toons and bloodstains?). Joey did it with him once. Bendy knew, it make his position only worse and bitter: is still just chalk, but you see this fatal markup, feel cold steel of blade on skin and you are already crying and shrinking from touchings, feeling yourself sheep to the slaughter. But nobody want be slaughtered! It's scary to even think about!

From moisture in eyes (he cant even wipe a tears!) Bendy couldn't see Henry clearly, but he make out that he hold scissors, not chalk or marker, and it means now he will... No! Must be way to escape, to persuade — Henry, you a not murderer! Henry, you said you love me!

But Henry, creator and hangman, already stayed opposite him, and Bendy could only squirm on the board and sob. Belts didn't give a chance on saving, and what words can make change mind of man if he prepared both scissors and cutting board and rags for gushing blood?

Sheep, sheep, sheep, it's time to sleep, rest your head, it's time for bed... It is that Henry felt once?

"Boris!" called Bendy without hope, "Boris, help, he going to- OH-OH-OH!"

He felt that something metallic cold touched his stomach: Henry started to cutting. How scary! How he want to live!

Tears poured from the eyes, and his body twisted trembling. Bendy remembered what Boris face was distorted the agony after this... And now will he have to put on with this agony?

"What are you yelling?" angrily asked Henry, "I am not even cutting living tissues. Be patient, you are man!"

And Bendy sensed how Henry are unbending edge of skin, opened the wound. The stomach clenched a spasm of nausea: he understood that for creator he are not alive toon, not are even toon for begin, and just chunk of meat which will should be gutted and butchered with proper heartlessness and after will the cutted corpse on the board, the broken bones, the flowed ink, the crossed out in toon manner eyes — symbol painful, violent death...

_DON'T NEED, HENRY! STOP IT, I DON'T WANNA END UP LIKE BORIS, DONT WANNA BE GUTTED, DON'T WANNA, HAVE PITY! PLEASE-PLEASE-PLEASE!_

Bendy burst into tears — he don't deserved! He don't deserved that be tortured so, that's all! It can't be deserved!

***

Over time held the scissors in hands was became usual feeling, aand Henry's moving had got some hardness, as he himself noticed with pride. Meaning he didn't lost the skill totally. All is alright, Bendy will able both run and jump already a week later, and life will return in back on track, as if nothing happened... However, seems like bendy didn't understood it stubbornly. He was managing to twitch and break out, even strapped (fortunately it didn't interfered a work), and chaotic sobs and moans gave way screams and begs.

"Boris, well, please!" groaned the imp through tears, "Boris, you know it is hurt, help me, help!"

No, Henry promised himself to be steadfast, don't stop and don't pity: he will able to afford himself compassions after, then his toon will in safety, under a blanket and not on a surgeon table, but now he shouldn't listen at all, because nobody gets better from it. Henry breathed in and out: on inky black body it was hard to see where skin are alive and where it is necessary to cut.

"Boris!" A sob of fear came out from Bendy's throat. "Where are you? I beg you, save me!"

"Boris are near," Henry attempted to calm the unhappy toon. "You will can speak with him, when I will finish."

Henry understood he didn't fault, and whatever he was doing, both screams and pain will: all the same he hadn't a opportunity inject a painkiller. But how to look on own creature when he crying and calling to help anybody if only this torture stopped? His fingers was trembling, he all trembling and yelled in frenzy:

"Alice! Alice, I'm scared, he'll slay me, I don't wanna to, I don't wanna to!"

"You will health, "Henry stated determinately, "Nobody at my patients died under a knife. I know that I'm doing, trust me."

What a nonsense, he will slay. Yes, the animation was his main profession, but he fairly good know a job of medic, and nobody should say "you'll slay me!" to his face! Henry focused on the work. Edges must be straight, else sewn wound just will inflames, and then he can't do without help of doctor...

"Sammy! Sammy, honey, I'm here, find me!.."

And where he'll find a doctor for the toon... Really it is hurt that much? That the imp nature: he lied on Henry's hands, bleeding — and almost without tears, and now twitched from every touch!

"Help, anybody, you said that you love me!"

One more similar phrase — and his nerves just will gone, cause he felt himself a executioner and knacker, looking on this shaking body, scared eyes and clenched teeth. But was he wanted of harm for Bendy? Of course no!

"Please," Bendy whimpered, "Please, pity me, I still can be saved..."

"Shut up!" he blurted angrily. "I try dont cause pain you, but you interfere me steadily! It will hurt more, if you will interfering! Are you understood?"

***

And Bendy silenced: he was afraid to scream, but sobs was still breaking from his chest. It will hurt if he will prevent... What a mockery! What can be more hurt and worse than disemboweling alive? Acetone? He deserved to be tortured most inhumane ways?

And it was more painfully that Boris and Alice stood at door, Bendy could call out to them, but they don't answered, and calling them is only adding of torment himself. Why they didn't respond? May be, Henry intimidated them, threatened them punishment too?

Or may be they don't care?

Henry held the scissors very slowly and carefully, and Bendy guessed that Henry only marking where he will truly cut after that. Bendy felt himself sweating, cause he understood, what a awful fate awaited him and for what Henry are in preparing toon's body so harrowingly long. It's only begin, later Henry will rip Bendy's veins, cut muscles, saw bones — and God willing that he already was unable feel at least half of it...

How he bought on this obvious trap, how he believed in this stupid "I love you, little devil?" A good human love, a good vows, if they all end deception, scalpel and agony! Sammy never told that he loved him and saved his live once — but now nobody help... Where a you, Sammy, where are you, faithful prophet, then your help so need?

Bendy tried to held sobs to seems brave, to people of studio didn't told about him that he, little coward, whimpered before he died and begged to save his worthless skin... But suddenly Henry lied aside a scissors and stopped to cut. Bendy glanced up with tears. Really he took pity, really he heard a pleas?

"Henry," attempted to call Bendy, but voice abruptly disappeared, and he could croak just something like "e-e-enr". The creator leaned over him, looked on him like with shame. May be, he really will let out him, really will remember that Bendy native for him, may be, he just don't realise that is scary to die so painful way! 

"Henry," weakly whispered he, "Henry, enough, don't..."

"It's alright," Henry muttered, "I... I don't mad on you, it just slipped out. I'm sorry I screamed on you. I'm here, with you, with you..."

He stepped back, and Bendy, already beginning to hope on mercy, saw that Henry took something from first aid kit. No, he don't understand, he dont understand! Bendy groaned desperately and tried to close the stomach legs — but could just bring knees together... What, Henry will testing on him all this surgeon's kit? It's unfair, he still alive, nobody must so brutally torture somebody who feel everything — and that creator does with him is real torture!

"Henry, stop it! I don't wanna die, I'm in pain and fright!" Bendy howled through tears. "Please, father, dad, daddy!"

***

Well, he did it halfway, and it won't be so hard anymore — this is what Henry thought, taking out a needle and thread from the medicine kit. Finally, it's time to show what he is capable of: he couldn't completely lose his experience, even for years, right? Now it's just a matter of checking...

Only, in fact, he did not want to do this check on Bendy, on a small and fragile toon — he would like to refuse...

"Henry, stop it! I don't wanna die, I'm in pain and fright!" Bendy howled through tears. "Please, father, dad, daddy!"

Henry turned anxiously. Nothing is clear. Bendy's wound was not fatal, that's for sure, at least Henry did not say it out loud. So where did the thoughts of death come from? Especially at Bendy, a cheerful and naive child...

"Why did you suddenly decide to die from such trifle, little devil? Don't be nervous. And don't cry, I'm almost finished."

Henry, of course, lied (if he'll think about it, he has not lied as much in his whole life as in this unfortunate day), but it was a lie for good. Only Bendy, it seems, have felt the falsehood in Henry's voice, because his breath began to choking because of crying, and he whined so beggingly voice:

"Henry, please, I will be good and obedient, I swear if you want!"

...That Henry, though he gave himself his word not to be pity and not to yield to the crying, a wave of compassion still overflowed. He could tell when a child was crying because he couldn't restrain, and when he was trying to manipulate, and he understood: now his devil was really suffering. He stretched out his hand to pet him, but Bendy twitched, trying to dodge; Bendy arched up in his back as his pose allowed, and shouted:

"You are evil, Henry! You are evil, sick on his head, just like Joey! Untie, please, it doesn't cost you anything! Do you like to torment little ones? All, I can't endure it, are you pleased?"

This scream was full of obvious anger, it was not even necessary to try to understand: the people of the studio could compare somebody with Joey in strong anger. Henry was embarrassed, although it seemed that an adult man like him should not care about the opinion of a toon. He said — and okay, who of the people in the ardor do not swear and sometimes curse the interlocutor? But in this phrase, it seemed, there was something more than blind rage. "Do you like to torment little ones?" — Bendy really thought that Henry hurts him for no reason.

"No, I don't like it at all," Henry said as clearly as possible, "I wish you weren't hurt, but I can't! Why don't you just lay quietly for your own good while I sew? You need it, not me, you understand?"

"Have I a choice?" Bendy asked after all, "I have not deserve to you hear me, may be, I... I'm understanding..." he sobbed, "Can you not hurt me very much, if you ever loved me?"

"I will try," Henry said, "I can't promise more, sorry."

Not all the same time to lie to him for good, really.

He feared that after the first stitch Bendy will start to twitch and squeal, calling for help, that again Henry would have to shout for calm him, but Bendy did not even say a word more. Yes, he sobbed timidly, yes, he shuddered, but he kept silent, clutching his teeth with grim firmness. Henry was even confused: he did not know that Bendy could do that.

Henry sewed, and Bendy didn't call, ask, or pray: he just cried quietly, and Henry felt a real respect for the little devil.

"Well, you see, it's not so terrible if you show a drop of patience," he said pleased, "Doesn't it hurt?"

Bendy was nodded his head. Henry, though he was focused on the needle, still saw this in the corner of eye.

"Well, that's great. Relax your stomach, if it is not difficult for you."

Bendy swallowed the tears, and the pity again hurt Henry in the heart.

"A little more, my little one, a little more."

***

Bendy did not want die. He just humbled, what nobody came and won't come to help, what creator are indifferent from his requests and entreaties, what he deserved cruel demise, and be not alive toon, but mutilated corpse to him. And he lay, unmoving and submissive, and only trembling.

Let Henry torture him, let kill him, let do what he wants - Bendy deserves. He, the Ink Demon, raised his hand to the creator not once or twice, and it would be even fair if Henry did the same. Good people have every right to punish the bad. As cruel as it should be. 

"Sammy, Sammy!" — he wanted to call for the last time, but... He did not dare. His eyes were burnt with tears: he thought that he could still live a peaceful life among toons and the Lost, so that everyone was happy — and it turned out that for everyone to live happily, he had to die...

"Relax your stomach, if it is not difficult for you."

Oh-ho-ho-o-o!.. Bendy doomed swallowed tears. Henry tell him how he should behave to be finished off faster — and Bendy has to obey, why world is so unfair?..

And Henry just smiled, and how he smiled! Tenderly, with some pity, seems his eyes were glowing from this. In other time Bendy would forgot about fear, would hug him from neck, would did all to see his smile longer. But it is possible to smile and caress, and slowly, painfully take a someone's life after. May be, he was smiling and caressing only because he like to feel how something alive and warm flutter under his palms, whimper and beg to stop — and suddenly fall in quiet and start to get cold...

If Henry really smiled, if he really wanted to comfort him, Bendy would smile back while he can. Only, something told him that nobody wants to comfort him, that Henry would torture him even more terrible ways, just knows that Bendy, weak from birth, from this... will demise too quickly.

If he could live at least still one day! If he could do another some good deed to studio remembered his no awful beast and not glad his demase!

"What happen with me... After?" asked he from yourself. People in studio often was telling him about God and Paradise. But Alice was noticing little devils, even drawn, not get in heaven...

He, Bendy, worthy only dissolution in dark. And nothing after.

***

Muffled sobs, no doubt, it was also somewhat difficult to listen to. But at least they did not force the conscience to shout, did not tear the heart and — most importantly! — did not interfere with his work. Henry could fully concentrate on the needle and thread. He did not allow himself to rant too much out aloud, but he was thanking Bendy mentally for his resilience.

Henry noticed that the blood didn't flow as much as it did before, and from the previous flow was only a thin stream — no critical loss of ink. Henry felt that the feverish shiver of the toon body calms down, that the hysteria that Bendy was embraced, if it does not go away, then at least it gets weaker — it means that the overall condition will also get better. Henry saw on the spot of the lacerated wound a neat, just stitched seam.

And Henry realized that he had won.

He put aside a needle and thread. And he allowed himself to finally take his eyes on Bendy's face.

He was lying on the table, weeped, scared, smeared with ink blood — but he was breathing, he mumbled something on the inside, he was moving his fingers, he was alive. And then an incomparable fatherly joy risen in Henry's chest. He saved his toon. Tears of pain will dry up, Bendy will smile and joke, and, probably, bragging about how he was not afraid at all or almost — he is a boy, he is brave, but Alice would cried in his place for sure! Henry smiled just imagining this picture, and he wanted to take this devil, a helpless one, in his arms, and hug tighter, to show that nothing threatens him.

However, it would be better unfasten it first.

Henry loosened the straps on his wrists — Bendy wiggled his hand and was silent, as if he was afraid of something, Henry unbuckled his legs — Bendy tried to press his legs to the body as a sign of defence, and his eyes were so miserable...

"Calm down," Henry said just in case, "you see, I don't even have anything in my hands. Come on, get up."

Bendy tried and at once fell on his elbows, grimaced with pain.

"Can't you get up? Come on, give me your hands, I will help you."

"I won't..." Bendy sobbed. "I won't, you'll again... again torture me... Kill me already, I can't sta-a-and it!"

With this phrase, his incomparable fatherly joy fell into the dust like old paper.

Henry knew that Bendy loves life very much and holds on to it, and it is right, it is so the child should. If Bendy did not love to life, he probably would not have lived in the studio for these thirty years. And Henry just did not know what should do or say that Bendy, crying, exhausted, begged for death. But Henry knew that he was definitely said or did it.

"Well, what are you tell?" he confusedly asked, mentally convinced himself that it was just a fever and Bendy wouldn't say it in his right mind. "Hush, hush, I'm not going to kill you. You're alive, see? As alive as you can be. Well. Come on up."

He grabbed it under his arms, tried to sit him straight — Bendy closed his eyes with his hands, groaned, smearing tears on his face:

"Henry, please!"

"What — please? Gather your thoughts, do not be silly, sit down right. I need to bandage you."

He blindly took a roll of bandage. Blindly, because he was looking at Bendy, and Bendy turned away, whining, sometimes looking through his spreaded fingers, sometimes again was squinting and shivering feverishly.

"I'm not needing bandage, I will be dead anyway... I am tired to suffer, I can't take it all!"

"Do not say that. You will surely recover, surely," Henry mumbled confusedly, once again wishing to confirm that all is well — because it seemed as if his hands were in blood, as if he really caused someone's death... "Now I will bandage — and then we will go to Boris, to Alice, to Sammy — they are waiting for you there, for sure, they are worried. And you just will laying down a little bit, for a week or a week and a half, and you won't have any pain, you don't have to suffer. The main thing is not to climb any towers or carousels, and you will be healthy... Sit down right, okay?"

***

Bendy heard all this, of course, and where to run him, only half of the words flew past him, and he didn't even ponder into their meaning. And the ones that were understandable didn't add up in sentences — but it didn't matter for him.

Bendy knew that these words were false. Bendy knew that if he was unfastened, the end was near. Bendy knew that dying would in any case hurt, whether Henry wanted to torture him for a long time or not. Bendy also knew that he weakened to the point that that his legs did not move, could not try to save himself or even resist for show.

It was even worse when Henry tried to sit him down straight (but what difference does it make how he sits when he'll lying down motionless corpse in a minute or two anyway?). The pain shooted the stomach once again, and he bent against his will and grabbed the side with his hands to somehow muffle this pain — and not to fall apart still alive, it must be a terrible sight...

Only he did not feel any blood on the gloves. Or rather, he felt, but somehow alarmingly little. And his fingers did not touch the slippery, nasty to the touch wound, but his skin. Intact, firm and alive.

"What, you do not cry anymore?" Henry asked. "Have you calmed down?"

Bendy held his hand higher — his fingers felt a straight, very clearly protruding seam. Where did the seam come from? On the contrary, Henry wanted to butcher him, he must be dead — why the seam?

"Good work," Henry said with a smile, "it will heal quickly, even the scar will not remain. You are a toon, you are tenacious."

The seam, the seam... Bendy already clearly understood that he was spared, he was given a mercy which he... just is not worth. Bendy has done so many bad things that death will not wash away, and Henry let him live! Bendy deserved to be burned with acetone, cutted into pieces — and Henry felt sorry for him, sewed up the wound!

It seemed that he did not have enough strength for tears after what he had gone through, but then he cried again. He cried from his fear, from the guilt for this fear, from a terrible shame before Henry — in fact, he saw the murderer in him, called him evil, and what will he think about Bendy now?... It is ashamed to keep silent, he must to thank — and he is afraid to say a word, and Bendy was sitting, shaking, wiping the ink drops with his fist...

***

Henry recoiled: in response to his words, he expected everything, but not another seizure of crying. The real scare replaced the indistinct anxiety, because the Bendy that he knew would never have behaved like that under any circumstances. It seemed that in the devil something changed after the wound, and Henry did not notice and — who knows? — finally broke him. What if he said or did something so damaging that Bendy's old character won't come back?

"How much you can yell? Enough, calm down!" he said with a desperate plea. "You so bravely put up with it! Persistent little devil, well done, endured, now just do not cry... So much it hurts, or what?"

"Uh-uh..."

"So what are wrong? Get your hands off your stomach, let me bandage it. It's okay, you are safe, nothing will happen to you, even if the wound hurts. It's a good that you didn't twitch, see?"

He hastily unwound the bandage, a couple of times wrapped around the stomach, mumbling... He did not know what he was mumbling, but it seemed vital to say something: maybe at least one phrase will hit the target, bring back a cheerful, live-lovely toon!

"A brave, strong, real man. We won this cursed wound, we will all win, if you wil so patient... Smile a little, or others will worry if they see you like this, they will think that you are worse. Would you like to go to my arms?".

However, Henry was not really planning to hear a positive answer. And he didn't plan to hear anything at all. There was just no one to comfort or calm him down when he just didn't know what to do, so he had to hug someone.

Bendy was struggling, trying to get out from Henry's hands, sobbing, said he is bad, guilty, and that it would be better if he hadn't been created at all — and Henry only pressed his ink body against him. And he also felt that Bendy was all wet with blood and sweat, poor creature.

"Well done. You are good, brave, alive, the main thing. Now it's all right, let's go to Boris. What are you crying, ashamed or something? Do not be shy, anyone would be hurt. It is nothing. The main thing is that... Don't break out, you're weak to walk on your own. You will fall and again... I am your creator, what happened with you?"

In the years of medical practice, regardless, it was easier. But when your own creature, who you call your son, lays on the table... How can you not give up your nerves here?

***

The space near the door was already crowded with a lot more people at the door: the Lost Ones, it seems, came from half of the studio, somewhere among them there was a figure of the Projectionist, and Boris headed the whole parade, who seemed to have a wool swell out of excitement for his friend.

"Is he alive?" everybody asked him in one voice.

"Alive, alive, why would he..." Henry looked around and whispered even quieter:" Sammy is not around?"

"Sammy is around," said Sammy, with the usual sarcasm in his voice, which suddenly came out of a row of the Lost (how could Henry not see him?), "as the faithful prophet should. You haven't done anything wrong with my Lord, have you?"

"Henry, forgive me!" wheezed Bendy through the tears (what a bad timing!). "I will be good, I will never disappoint you again, just forgive me, please!"

Lawrence squinted. His eyes glowed with a threat.

"He's okay," deliberately rudely answered Henry to put the "faithful prophet" in his place, "only shouting, as if I am at any rate slaughtering him alive. Our cartoon dancer has healthy lungs, apparently, if he are so much crying and not tired... Not you tired yet?" He told to Bendy. "Huh? No one touches you, calm down..."

Sammy took his eyes at the crying toon in bandages. He looked more closely, but it was unknown what he wanted to see.

"My Lord? Are you all right? Look at me."

Bendy turned his head, looked up eyes to Lawrence, and smiled, though tears still flowed down his face and the shiver of panic shocking his body, and for some reason, Henry wanted to turn away from that smile through the tears. Sammy sat down on his knees and tried to take a weak little devil, but Henry stepped back a few steps, as if showing that let him sit for now, because he has not recover yet, but Lawrence and so on pulled him in his arms.

"I know," Lawrence whispered, "I know this look, I already saw it thirty years ago, and, by order of all the ink of this hole, what have you done with it?"

"Down with your loyalty, I didn't tell him anything to make you mad about it," Henry fell out, "your "lord" is by nature a small child, so he's wail about it and without it. I didn't even managed to strap him to the table and he..."

Henry could have proved that Sammy are wrong for a long time, but he stopped in time, as it seemed to him: it was insultingly to justify himself to Lawrence. However, Lawrence made some picture of what had happened without any additional explanation, and judging by his changed face, Henry in this picture took the position of absolute evil, a sick maniac and just a bastard.

"Oh, that's it," he said out as if was disappointed," you strapped him to the table. Not another word."

"But are you ever try to sew the wound with one hand, and with the other to hold him, so that he does not harm himself?" Henry flared up. "After all, anyone can shut up the others with a stupid pride, but when will it come to the point... Right, isn't?"

He looked at Alice and Boris: they would support him, they understood that Sammy was saying a nonsense — and they were almost always on the side of the creator! — But Alice stood, lowering her head, Boris shut his eyes, pressed his ears to his head as if he was confused...

"Why do you keep quiet?" asked Henry a tone lower.

The Lost Ones began to bewilderingly look at Sammy — he just grinned. Boris clung to Alice, she whispered something dissatisfied...

"Why do you keep quiet, I ask you again? What have I done wrong? Why are you staring at me?"

Whatever the reason, it was clearly a taboo topic here. Alice turned inopportunely-cartoonly, started whistling something from the thirties years. Boris clutched his mouth with his paw. Sammy ostentatiously pushed his fingers on his lips, saying that I am dumb as a Searcher, and if I tell it anyone, it will not be you, a sinner, a horseman of the apocalypse, what are you thinking of, fastening toons to the table.

"Why is he crying? Explain finally, you all know, I alone not see!"

Boris something barked and silent, Alice said only "you know, Henry...". And then Sammy, apparently, realising that Henry was punished enough for deciding to have an argument with the Prophet of the Ink Demon, straightened his back and took the floor:

"Well, let me explain."

You will unwittingly expect ridicule from someone like Sammy, a gloating intonation, but Sammy began to speak quietly, thoughtfully... With care.

"I have often noticed this. He may sometimes seem fearless, the little devil, but there is still one thing he was afraid of: the operating table. In the very room where Boris was... In general, sometimes I had to go there, and every time he said that he did not like this place and and wanted to leave faster — I did not have enough strength to judge him for that. And every time he saw this table or something similar to it — you know, we have enough of it — his face was changing and he started to worry at once."

But Henry hadn't thought about it. He himself understood that the bad, the terrible is related to this table — and he just couldn't guess to transfer this feeling to someone else! But after all, Bendy was much more affected by this than Henry...

"Maybe he saw Boris there," Sammy sighed, "but most likely, he was afraid to repeat his friend's fate once: after all, once he was literally a step away from it."

Henry would scream in anger which bastard decided to raise his hand on Bendy... But, unfortunately, he knew that there was only one such bastard in the studio — the one who lacked Boris' blood.

"I don't know the details — and I don't want to know, I've had enough of what I have already seen here! — but in the days when the madness had just started... I was looking for Joey because I wanted to get an explanation, and I found the my Lord strapped to the board and Drew next to him. And honestly, only a dead man's heart would not shrinked because he was shivering and sobbing like a child. However, he is a child, and besides he understood, what a torment was waiting for him... God, I can not remember it calmly... Drew said it was none of my deal, but... No, I was not a prophet then, but did it give me the right to stay away? I would be ashamed to do with the corpse what Joey was going to do with a alive creature! I would have chased him and killed him if I could, but my Lord... It seemed right to comfort him at first, right?"

Frightened crying, twitching, pleading for help, desperate "creator, father, daddy!"... Everything suddenly acquired a new shade. The little one, how much he must have been afraid!

"He is still afraid that one day he will on the table, under the knife, and help will not come," Sammy summed up, only confirming Henry's thoughts. "I think that fear prevailed over him, and he... Could see Joey in your face."

No. Wait. Then, he thought that Henry... No, what a nonsense, Bendy knows that Henry is not capable of such a cold-blooded murder! Everybody knows that, right?

"I just wanted to help him!" Henry screamed, "Just sewed up his wound! You didn't think so, did you?"

"Believe me, if I thought you wanted to take his life, I would have broken down the door and strapped you to the table myself, I wouldn't have been shy," Sammy said silently. "Of course, I knew you wouldn't do anything wrong to my Lord, you're a good man, Henry, but my heart was bleeding with this plea. Can I still take him in my arms? It can be comforting."

Bendy clung in Sammy's shoulders with such force, with which somebody's sinking does not hold rescuer's hand. Sammy, apparently, he already had a strong association with the saving.

And Henry, comes out, had a association with death.

"Sammy, honey... I called you so loud! I thought I'll be butchered, I thought I... I can't hug you! Nevermore!" Bendy sobbed. "You won't let him do this to me, will you? I'm scared, I don't want to, I don't want to be a chunk of meat..."

"This is not going to happen, my Lord. You are safe, no one wants you dead, and your creator too. Calm down, do not cry, no one will do such inhumane things to you and your body. Shh-shh... You are alive and well, nothing to be afraid of."

Henry frozen. He did not want to accept the fact that Bendy was able to think about him that way. Did he really assume that Henry was going to use his helplessness to kill him as the dirty traitor?

"You say I would butcher you... Bendy, sonny, can you hear yourself? Me? Would I have butchered you? Wake up, remember that I'm your dad!"

"Don't be mad at him," Sammy asked, "he probably doesn't realize what he's saying. He is ruled by fear, because in that day Joey left a deep wound in his mind, more. He will wake up. He will realize that he was wrong".

"How insensitive does one have to be in order not to notice it?" Alice asked as if mockingly. "He was yelling "I don't want to die!", but you didn't understand what he was thinking and why he was begging you for mercy?"

"I was sewing up his wound, Alice," Henry answered angrily, "I couldn't think about it, I prayed for, God damn it, not to cut his insides with a scalpel or something..."

Bendy cried hysterically. Sammy soothingly stroked him on the back.

"We're not... blami ng you," said the Projectionist.

"I will call you when he come to his senses," Lawrence promised. 

He will come to his senses... Can he just come to his senses and then talk to him like nothing happened? Will there be no trace left in the soul after the fear he experienced? So, Henry just had to be near Bendy, especially now that he knows a little more about the reason for these tears, will have to explain that this will never happen, that he will never be an executioner for his son, will never treat him like an insensitive body...

"No," he strongly stated. "I. I have to talk to him. And I want to talk to him in private."

"Crazy!" Alice exploded. "He is not only yours! We sit here on pins and needles , worried, almost died while waiting, and you take him again! But you didn't think that we also want to talk, that..."

"I worry as much as you do!" Henry broke off her wailing, "I don't want him to keep thinking that. I want to change his mind. And this conversation does not need to be heard by everyone! Sammy, can I take him?"

Sammy tried absolutely honestly to give the little devil to Henry. Only the little devil clung to Sammy's shoulders so much that he didn't do it right away.

"You should at least let him cry," Boris asked, "he is afraid of you, look."

Exactly, he is afraid, Henry answered himself bitterly, walking up the stairs and pressing to himself lump of ink, something whining. He did not even look at the toons in the back.

Henry was offended, although out loud, of course, would not have told anyone, not even Bendy. After all, what father does not like the idea that he is doing well in this honorable role, that his child trusts him, that he is important in his life? But it turned out that he as a father is not just bad — completely worthless, because a child will never think about a good father such terrible things. Of course, it was nobody's fault that he failed in his duties, but there was still a grudge, only it is unclear whom: it was stupid to resent Bendy. Where did he do such a mistake? After all, he did not even raise his hand on toons, from the very beginning he decided to leave the beating for educational purposes to those who can not communicate with children in a different way. And here — "I'll be butchered"! What kind of person would dare to kill his own child? Unless he is a drunkard whose mind is overshadowed by alcohol.

Or Joey Drew. And it is unknown which of them is worse to look like.

***

There were no real beds in the studio. There was an old mattress from which springs protruded and which, in spite of this shortcoming, was considered a studio pride. As a result, Alice took it herself, but even she could not forbid Henry to use it in case of any emergency — and needless to say that the incident was exactly the same: putting a wounded toon on the floor seemed to be something wrong.

Bendy probably wanted to hide or run away, but he couldn't even turn from the pain, so he stayed lying and watching — Henry forced himself not to look away, to withstand this stare, fulled of horror — although the steadiest heart was tearing apart from him.

"Well... what else?" Bendy finally spoke, "what do you want from me... I won't... I won't... do anymore..."

"What won't you do anymore?" Henry asked gently: the main thing is not to make something abrupt, or the devil will be locked in himself, and then it will be useless to say something.

"Anything... I won't do anything," Bendy shaken his head confusedly. "I won't climb on... merry-go-rounds... and I won't talk about it... Only d... don't torture me, don't, you already hurt me!..."

The devil trembled because of the Henry's extended hand, as if from a blade over his chest, and Henry decided not to caress him, but to wait a wave of fear out.

"I never wanted to hurt you," he said, "are you mixed me up with Joey? I don't look like him at all. Not a face, not a..."

"You were acting like... Joey," Bendy was forced to say. It was obvious that he was afraid to say it, but for the first time in his life, maybe, he did not know how to lie...

Here's how. It would be interesting to know when this similarity became so familiar to him that he did not notice. Did he ever threaten to use force? Did he like to scare the defenseless Bendy with a cruel death? Did he often emphasize that the eldest, the chief, could do anything and nobody would be thwarted him? He guarded Bendy with all his might, but he could not save Bendy from himself, is it?

"Joey said the same thing, he also repeated that everything would be fine, that it will be fast and won't painful if I won't twitch — and he was looking for a knife, you realise? He had already painted on my chest a line where he was going to cut across and said that I had to just be patient! He told me that it was better for me, caressed, smiled, too... And I had no smile at all, I begged, I would kneel if I could, because I want to live, to exist, even if it is worse for me!"

Henry was shuddered. When Sammy told how Joey almost killed his toon, it was scary. But when Bendy told, the moral horror increased several times. And if we remember that once Joey was his friend, then... Years later, Henry was just amazed at himself gullibility.

"And you too — caressed, smiled, said that you want to help, that it will not hurt if I do not jerk, that everything will fast — and tied me to the board, stood with scissors and cut my stomach, and it seemed to me that I really will die! Did I know that on this thing someone could be treated if someone was tortured on it all the time? What should I have thought about it?"

Henry took a breath. But the operating table was originally invented for a good cause, to save lives. But Joey made it so that Bendy did not know it and could not imagine it.

"I thought that you were so angry with me for it that... It is easier to kill me than to babysit me, that you are tired or bored with me. I really didn't think, I just saw that you with a peroxide and other, I felt that I couldn't move... I was even afraid to look, I didn't want to see how you will slaughter me... Henry, please forgive me, I was afraid by accident!"

On God. Hearing from children's mouth "didn't want to see how you will slaughter me" was wrong and terrible. But it was even more wrong to see the scared, apologizing Bendy who was lying down, little covering his face with his hands.

"You're a fool, Bendy," said Henry, "how did it occur to you, sunshine? Was I shouting at you? Eren if it was so, I wasn't even angry. What to say there... Well, that's what came to your mind, my poor baby?"

"I did not want to", Bendy whispered timidly, "I will not say so once again, forgive me, please!

"Oh-ho-ho," laughed the man sadly, "you say so as if I could kill you for your confession..."

And on this phrase the devil shrunk into a ball even stronger than the earlier, shut eyes and so loud, so desperately shouted "I knew it, I knew that you'll slaughter me anyway!".

What Henry understood: a toon thinks it is more than probable.

"Why?... I just asked, I... Bendy, it is a terrible sin to kill someone. I would not take such a guilt, after that I will not be able to live peacefully!" But why should he be surprised if the his own creatures expect from him that he'll bring them death! "Bendy, my good, of course, I will not do it, but tell me, why did you decide so?"

"No! I will not, I will not say, you will slay me for it!"

"Nonsense, Bendy, I am not even offended."

"What difference does it make! If not now, then tomorrow or anytime!"

"Bendy, I love you! And you, and other toons, I do not want to hurt any of you, and even more so to kill. Just say the reason, and I will prove it is not true."

Bendy took his palms away from his face. And he smiled, but not a cheerful baby smile, but with a timid and bitter grin.

"And it is as if you do not guess, heh. I know, you just don't want to talk, you want me to say it. Henry, I was an Ink Demon. I drowned this studio in fear and darkness, I made everyone obey me, I... Often hurt others, and you too."

"But now you are not the Ink Demon," Henry cautiously pointed out, "you are now the little and sweet devil that you have always been and that you should be. Am I right?"

Bendy shuddered a little.

"That's right. I am a sweet little devil. I can't hurt anyone, I'm... I'm the weakest creature in this place. And everyone can mock me as he wants, because I can not give fight back, I can not even compete with Alice, and she is a girl! And you, too, can and beat me, and slay me off, and gut me alive, as Joey wanted, no matter how guilty I am, I still can't do anything! Henry, tell me, you want to get back at me, right? You want, I deserve it, right?"

Bendy stared at him, waiting for an answer. It would seem that the little naive child who never have seen evil and blood. But from his toon eyes looked Ink Demon, used to live by the rule "kill or be killed". The cruel and changed world dictated to him new conditions until he began to follow them. Are you strong? You must fight! Are you weak? You must perish! And he was fighting, he was breaking and humiliating others, in order not to fall, not to let anyone take place of the nightmare of the studio, always be strong, even if it means to be cruel.

And how was it feel for him to be defenseless again after that? Surely something like: "And what will you do, little devil, without ink and physical power? Kill or be killed — what of it is available to you? Go ahead, guess from the first time!"

Neither the Lost Ones, nor the toons wanted something bad for him, but the mind, used to see only enemies in all, could not realize it. He was shuddering waiting for a well-deserved revenge, a stab to the back or cruel torments for everything he had done. It seemed to him that people around were waiting for the moment to attack, and if he will something wrong, they would will show their anger and would will not stand on ceremony with him. So any mistake, any disobedience could have been fatal for him — at least, that was Bendy's point of view.

"Oh, my God, a poor frightened soul," Henry thought. He remembered with what slave humility the devil had heard from him both advices and reproaches and screams (and such behavior different from his former, stubborn and capricious devil, his former Bendy). He remembered Bendy's doomed and frightened look as he sat on his arms with his torn side (and his first phrase was not "it hurt!" but "I accidentally, Henry!"). And as he twitched his legs, wriggled on the table, as in despair shouted, as he tearfully begged, "Henry, please, let me out! (rather "Henry, please, let me live!") — Henry also remembered...

"I almost forgot about it," Bendy confessed, "I thought maybe you forgot about it too, or you don't want to dirty your hands about me, or... really forgave me, you never know for sure. But there, on the board, I immediately remembered that I am just a pathetic ink spot, because you, Henry, easily could..."

Bendy passed his palm across his throat with cartoon expressiveness. However, it was hard to look at it — as well to listen this "I don't want to be a piece of meat", said through the hysterical crying, and in general to understand that the child's consciousness is capable of producing such terrible thoughts.

"And what about me? I can just close my eyes if I'm frightened to look, but no more..." he smiled nervously, because the tears seem to be over. "I can be patient, okay? If it would quickly and not so painful — I would accept it somehow. But this death is horrible, scare, I don't wanna die so, not like Boris..."

Here's a little naive child, here's a child's simplicity! He looks the eyes that are not yet dried up from tears, shudders, smiles so that it looks creepy, looks forward and sees nothing for himself except death: the world has taught him what he'll been killed for the weakness — oh, Bendy, why did you believe?

Henry physically felt that in his chest rises an fatherly pity. No, it should not be like that, that's all! The child, though he is a toon, must jump, smear his and others' pants with paint, laugh loudly, beg sweets, play catch-up, dream about what he will be like when he grows up — the child should live without fear. A child should not go from room to room, beware of people and afraid that he will be punished for old sins, should not behave like a faded shadow of the past. And certainly child should not sit like this, shivering in hysterics, and consciously prepare themselves for death and torture at the hands of their own father, and think that he deserved it!

"Bendy, my good..." what the words should say when you want to shout! "Bendy, I love you, you understand, no?"

"Of course you do!" Bendy shouted, "everyone loves me in word, no one is angry! Joey also loved, most often said that I am good, I am smart! And then? And then "I'm sorry and goodbye" — and come on, lay on the board, under the knife, and nobody care that it hurts — Bendy didn't deserve without pain, he are just a stupid toon! You love me this way too, don't you? Certainly, for what to love me, when it is necessary to dissect me, isn't? I will even try to not be afraid, I understand you will not forgive me otherwise!"

Bendy was lying, of course. Fear appeared in the movements, in the evil grin, in the twitching of the shoulders, in the shifted eyebrows, in the scream with which he wanted to hide his fright. He lusted to live childishly, no matter how you twist it, and Henry wanted more than anything in the world that this lust was not suppressed by guilt...

And he asked, as if not in the subject:

"Tell me, Bendy, have you ever tried to come up with a character for a cartoon?"

Bendy turned around, still with clenched teeth and fists, still overwhelmed with powerless anger... But it was as if his eyes were asking him what it was all about, and Henry mentally noted — a small victory! And he continued to reason out loud:

"Didn't you sit around at night, drawing sheets with sketches, looking through dozens of options, thinking over postures and movements, trying to catch the same image about which you will say later — here, this is what I wanted, this is the character that I want to revive on paper over and over? Do you know what kind of character it is? It's you. Yeah, I fell in love with you before I started drawing frames for the first series."

He felt that the tension was dropping, that Bendy stopped flinching from his voice, and Henry continued with enthusiasm:

"It is difficult to explain, but I never got bored with drawing you, Boris, Alice. I got attached to you, believe it or not, and then..."

"No, you did not love me!" Bendy interrupted him with anger in his voice. "You loved the painted devil that you invented, it's not real love."

"Oh, are you think that? And then Joey called me to the Ink Machine without explaining what should happen. Everything was humming, ink almost flooded the floor, I was cursing all, shouted to him that he was a fool, but still," Henry laughed, "in my soul I really wanted you to be alive. And when you looked at me, I immediately understood that now I will never cease to love. And do you know why?"

"Because I was cute then. I smiled funny. And because then I did not hurt you."

"Eh, and that's a reason too, but still the main thing was different. Because I was the one who concoct your character and manners, and here you stood in front of me exactly as I imagined you. And, to be honest, you are was a lovely helpless in this moments. You couldn't live without me and Joey, because, honestly, you couldn't do much on your own..."

"And what is good here?"

"Well, that's what people call fatherhood, isn't it? You really have become like my own son. And parents always love their children, even if they interfere with their work sometimes, even if they are often wrong at first... Even if they do something bad."

Bendy wrapped his shoulders around his hands. Henry had never noticed before how thin his hands were and how painfully thin he was.

"Do you hear? I am talking to you. Even when I was met by the Ink Demon instead of a little devil, I loved you, swore that I would definitely find a way to help you. Because to love only when it is easy, agree, a little bit unfair. Especially if before that person was very close to you. I forgave you already then, you know? I forgave you. You do not need to redeem yourself somehow. Especially using death."

But Bendy looked suspiciously, and Henry understood why. Joey once told him so much about love, which was a simple thirst for profit, so much he lied to him about affection, which he easily crossed with betrayal later, that Bendy no longer thought it was right to rely on words. After all, in fact, a someone, preparing grave for somebody, will not talk about it directly.

"You are afraid of me," he summed up with a sorrowful sigh. "Do you think I will kill you? Well, even if you consider me a heartless bastard, well, suppose. But if I wanted you dead, tell me, why would I catch you when you fell? Why didn't I leave you there to bleed out? Why would I even go to check you are okay if I don't care? You do not know."

"To kill me yourself, of course... Because otherwise it is not that, not revenge that I deserve."

"Even so! Do I have even a bit of human appearance, not of heartless beast? You comforted the old man. Look, someone who would like to kill you, would do it when you sleep, so that no one could see and you couldn't cry and struggle. But you didn't even have to wake up at night, right? You've always slept peacefully. Nobody thought to hurt you."

Bendy straightened himself out. It was obvious that this thought had never occurred to him.

"Anyone who wanted to kill you would already have done it on the operating table when you couldn't even move your hand. But I sewed up your wound, because I want you to be alive and well, that's all. The others, by the way, were worried about you, Sammy was imposing himself on me as an assistant. I was walking all over the studio risking my life, I was dragging you out of hatred for the whole world... It all was don't to butcher you for some trifle which my heart wouldn't let me to name "fault". Even then, I never let the thought of finishing off you, and I certainly will not let it now that you are fine. And I will never let it happen! Never, even if you suddenly commit some unimaginably unforgivable sin, even if you become something worse than the Ink Demon..."

"I will not become worse," Bendy turned his back shamefully. "I can't be worse, that's all, I'm already bad, and you... You are a saint, Henry, if you really think so!"

"Well, here you are overreacting, son. I am just soft. And in general, if a man does not dismember the small and weak in retaliation for old mistakes, it means that he just has a morality in his heart, and to be a saint is a little more difficult science..."

"Anyway," Bendy weeped, "you are good, kind, better than Joey... And better than me too!"

And looking at him, somehow sheepish curled up little devil, looking into his tearful eyes, listening to the inarticulate mumbling, Henry realized that Bendy believes and now repents to himself for his recent unbelief. But the truth was that he don't have to do it at all.

"Come on, don't be upset," he said with a smile. "I am not offended. Let's give me to hug, huh?"

He gently took Bendy under his arms and also gently (because the devil is still wounded, it must be painful for him to move) lifted him above the floor. Bendy looked embarrassedly at the creator.

"Don't be scared, okay? You see, I don't even touch your bandage. I'll just hold you in my arms."

Henry intercepted the toon so that he could sit down: one hand wrapped it behind his back, the other under his knees. Then he sat down and timidly pressed Bendy to himself.

"Does it hurt?"

"Henry, I will not do it again... I'll... I'll..."

"That's good. The main thing is you don't cry like that when I will take off the seams, and then everything will be fine."

Henry could now absolutely say that he was happy. He was holding a toon named Bendy, a mischievous devil, a favorite creature, a saved life. And Bendy was not afraid of the creator, he was not afraid of death at his hands, he was not afraid of betrayal. He sat and hugged Henry, hugged as the relative. He sat and foolishly nestled to him in such a way that little tingly in heart. And his heart beat calmer and calmer with every minute.

And Henry knew that no matter who or what tried to take the life of his little devil, Henry would not allow it. Henry will take it from a crowd of ink monsters, and from the rapid loss of blood to make this little one live. And he certainly will not raise his hand on it.

It's time to leave the old to the old. From now on, there is no place for an Ink Demon, fear and revenge in the studio. So let father and son live without fear!

He was hugging Bendy, maybe, he was whispering something soothing — he himself did not remember...

And when Boris was ready to break down the door, to scream, to call his best friend, Sammy, always particularly sensitive, grabbed his paw and said:

"No. No need. Give him time. Let him learn to believe again."

**Author's Note:**

> Is it nonsense? It is masterpiece? I don't know, but you know surely. Will you say me it?


End file.
